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While we eat, she chatters away about something she’s looking forward to at school. I try to focus, but I don’t hear much of anything she says. The pancakes turn to sand in my mouth and catch in my throat when I swallow. My stomach won’t stop clenching and I’m on the verge of a panic attack.
“Mom,” Kylie says, and I realize she asked me something.
“What, honey?”
“Are the art classes starting this week?”
“Oh, yeah, they are. Thank you for reminding me. I’ll drop you off after school.”
Kylie beams, excited. I should be excited for her—my art classes were so much fun when I was a kid. But I can’t think straight right now.
After we eat and Kylie gets ready for school, I drop her off and head on to the office. I greet my colleagues in passing before I lock myself in my office. I have five minutes before I have to be in the meeting, but I need to talk to Dianne.
When I dial her, I get her voicemail.
“No, no, no,” I mutter and try again, hoping the call will go through. When it goes to voicemail again, I feel like crying.
This panic is eating me up. I’m so damn scared of what will happen when I’m finally happy, and I don’t know how to handle it.
“Natalie?” Michelle asks, knocking on my door. “Are we ready?”
I force a smile onto my face and open my door. “Sure, I’m on my way.”
Michelle hesitates. “Are you okay?”
“Fine,” I say. “I’m just getting my file.” I turn away from her before she asks anything else, and thankfully, she lets it go. After I grab my file, I follow her to the conference room, where everyone is already collected around the table. I take a seat and Michelle starts talking.
I don’t hear anything she says. I make notes absent-mindedly but I don’t know if they’re worth anything. Thankfully, she doesn’t call on me, and when the meeting is over, I walk to my office. I’m finally alone and allowed to fall apart. Tears roll down my cheeks and I try to breathe through the panic that comes with it. It helps a little, but not enough. The more I think about Mason and how I feel about him—how amazing he’s been so far—the more I’m terrified of what might happen if I lose him. I know I’m not supposed to look at the future like that. It’s not right to always expect the worst. But if the worst is my constant companion, how can I think about anything else?
This is a mistake. Being with Mason just sets me up for more heartache and pain, and I can’t deal with more. I’ve reached my limit. I’m completely overwhelmed.
I can’t do this with him. The moment I think it, I relax. The panic subsides. I know what I need to do. I can’t handle a relationship right now. I don’t know if I ever can. Dianne means well when she pushes me, but I have to look out for myself.
Sometimes, being happy doesn’t mean taking the leap. It might mean not taking it. Just thinking it makes me feel more at ease, and I should listen to that. I should be kinder to myself and not push myself into something I’m not ready for.
It will be better this way. I already feel like I can breathe again. I feel like I might be able to move forward.
Even if it's alone.
Chapter 17
Mason
“What do you think?” Kevin asks, watching me study the designs on his tablet.
I look at the sketches he made, holding up the tablet so I can see the sketches side-by-side with my empty dining room.
“This is great,” I say.
He’s taken all the furniture I marked off on my list and used them in the designs so that the look is realistic.
When his company first put him forward as the designer that would handle my restaurant, I thought he was too fresh out of college. He’s not the type of guy I’ve spent a lot of time with either—I’ve always been around guys who measure dicks by outdrinking each other or placing bets on how much they can bench in the gym. Hell, this guy doesn’t even know who I am. Apparently, there are more people out there that don’t follow football than I previously thought.
Kevin is more the type of guy who embraces art and takes pride in the finer things in life.
And he’s fucking good at what he does.
“Really?” he beams before he composes himself. “I’m so pleased. I would have gone back to the drawing board again and again if you weren’t.”
